


Carpe Diem

by CosmicCthulhu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Angst, Blood and Injury, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Hermione Granger, Romance, plot based on movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicCthulhu/pseuds/CosmicCthulhu
Summary: Seven years after the war, tensions rise at Hogwarts with the disappearance and possible death of a student. To help the students cope with the stress of demanding classes and a possible tragedy, Hermione decides to start a Literature Club, with the help of a fellow professor, Draco Malfoy.Plot is based on ‘The Dead Poets Society’ with a little bit of a murder mystery thrown in there.Mentions of suicide and blood, but nothing too graphic.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Carpe Diem

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve recently rewatched Dead Poets Society and Robin Willians’ brilliance inspired me.
> 
> I almost gave up the foreign poetry bits entirely and I was just going to roll with Brazilian literature. 
> 
> English is not my first language, and this work is unbeta'd so all errors are my own.  
> (And this is a 13k+ words monster, so please bear with me)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.

"He must have been killed!" A girl with blonde hair and green eyes screeched in a failed attempt to whisper at her friend’s ear by her side.

"Killed?" Her friend, with black curly hair gasped. "By what? A person? A student?"

"I think." A brunette boy piped in, on the furthest seat at their shared working station. "That we're sharing the same room as the murderer." He gave a pointed look towards the Potions professor, who was sitting at the edge of his desk, with an aloof and cold expression, as he watched the class performing their work.

“Mr. Dalton, Miss Knox and Miss Cameron.” Malfoy barked with a harsh voice, loud enough to echo in the dungeons. “Stop talking and get back to work.”

The three seventh year Gryffindor students immediately stopped their conversation, lowering their heads to look at the still empty cauldron. One of the girls sighed in defeat, regretting her previous decision of not reviewing her notes before class, as she and no one else on their station had any idea as to how to even begin their potions assignment.

“Hey, what did you mean by that?” Cordelia Knox, the dark haired pureblood girl asked in a whisper to Aiden Dalton, the brunette boy. “That we’re sharing a room with a murderer?”

“Isn't it obvious?!” Aiden scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Mr. Malfoy is a Death Eater! He’s probably the culprit.”

“Aiden!” Maddie Cameron, the short haired blonde hissed, in a louder tone. “You can’t just accuse someone of murder without proof! We don’t even know if Pat’s dead or not!”

“Back to work!” Malfoy hissed again, crossing his arms. “This is the last warning!”

\------

“And remember, everyone!” Hermione’s voice boomed across the crowded classroom. “I want the reports about the Laws of Transfiguration by the end of this week!”

The class of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs students groaned in unison, as they were reminded of the difficult task given by the sweet, but demanding professor. 

“Who needs a murderer on the run?” One of the Hufflepuff boys whined, loud enough for the professor to hear. “The school curriculum is enough to kill us all!”

His friend chuckled and patted his back, in a mock act of assurance. “Which reminds me, I have three Charms essays to present by tomorrow morning and if I fail that class again, my mum will murder me and I’ll only get into the Quiddich tryouts on my next life!”

“What charms essays?” The first student widened his eyes in fear, realizing he hadn’t done that schoolwork. “Oh Merlin! Why didn’t the murderer get me instead?!”

Hermione gathered her materials and left her room, startled by the grim and dark humor of her students. She took the opportunity to review her notes about a new idea she wanted to implement, to help the students such as these two Hufflepuffs to cope better with the high demand of Hogwarts, and rushed her way into the corridors of Hogwarts, making her way into the Auditorium next to McGonadal’s office, where the monthly reunion of the Staff and the Board of Governors took place. 

“I’m telling you, Maddie!” Aiden, one of the most energetic Gryffindor boys practically yelled, whilst he also rushed out of Hermione’s classroom. “Malfoy killed Patrick Selwyn!”

“Hey!” Hermione hissed, as she widened her eyes and puffed her hair in anger. “50 points from Gryffindor!”

“What?” Aiden turned to look at the angry Head of the Gryffindor House. “Why did you dock points, Miss Granger!?”

“You should not throw baseless accusations around like this, Mr. Dalton.”

“Told you so, Aiden, you pillock!” Maddie hissed by his side.

“You, of all people, should know how dangerous he can be, professor.” The boy whined, with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re correct.” Hermione bristled in annoyance. “I do know how dangerous Malfoy can be. And trust me when I say that he may have been a prat when he was younger, and his family ideologies were sketchy, at best. But Malfoy never was and never will be a murderer. Now hurry along to the library before I dock more points because of your abhorrent behaviour.”

Aiden’s eyes widened in fear and regret. It was a well known fact how much he adored the ‘ _ Golden Trio _ ’ and idolized the three members, which was clearer when he started having classes with Hermione Granger herself. Which prompted the student to immediately apologise for his previous comment.

“I’m sorry, professor!” He said, with a strangled voice. “I won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t.” Hermione responded, deflating slightly when the 17 year old scurried back to the Gryffindor Tower.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Malfoy said, whilst leisurely approaching from behind a corner, clearly having heard the entire interaction. “I don’t need you to protect my honor.”

“I did.” Hermione huffed. “It’s not about protection, it’s about making them see that the war is over. It’s been over for more than seven years, in fact.” 

“Well, then. Thank you for your vote of confidence.” He smirked, but abruptly sombered, as he started to walk beside the petite muggleborn. “Now let’s go, we’re late already and I fear this meeting will be one of the long ones.”

Hermione hummed in agreement, thinking about Patrick Argos Selwyn, a seventh year Slytherin student that had gone missing three days ago without a trace. 

His father, one of the members of the Board of Governors, a very rich and very strict pureblood wizard had called for an earlier meeting, presumably to talk about the situation at hand, despite the fact that aurors were already investigating the matter.

\-----

As predicted, the meeting had gone for way longer than usual. It started with the conventional topics of school curriculum, demands for updating the material, new books and brooms, and so on. Which usually took hours to discuss by itself anyway. But then the conversation delved into the missing student crisis, and the previous light hearted banter and bickering of the professors and staff evolved into a more solemn and dreary rhetoric.

Mr Selwyn had remained quiet and aloof throughout the first hours of the reunion, but straightened himself up in his seat when the name of his son had been mentioned by McGonadal. He raised his voice, letting it take over the room, and Hermione furrowed her brow in concern, looking at the previously well composed member of the Board of Governors that was now flailing with a face reddened in anger.

“My son! Is- Is missing! Somewhere out in this world! And no one is doing anything about it!”

“We have aurors working on the case, Mr. Selwyn.” McGonadal tried to reassure the man. “I know this must be difficult for you. But be patient, we’re doing everything we can!”

“You’re not doing enough!” The man slammed his fist into his desk, startling a few of the dozing and bored professors in the meeting room. He marched out of the room without a word, seething in anger and worry for his lost son.

“I believe we’ve discussed everything.” McGonadal straightened herself and cleared her throat, after recovering from the surprising and aggressive reaction of the pureblood wizard. “Then, I declare that this meeting is adjourned.”

The professors and members of the Board of Governors sighed in relief, after spending hours sitting in a hot and uncomfortable room, discussing matters of the school, the classes, the students, and the possible tragedy. 

“Actually, there’s one more thing I’d like to suggest.” Hermione raised her voice, ignoring the strangled groans and moans from the other professors that wanted the meeting to be over. “I’d like to set up a Literature Club.”

“A literature club?” The Arithmancy professor scoffed, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “What an awful idea! The kids would hate it!”

“Mrs. Hager.” McGonadal gave her a pointed look, which made the old lady quiet down her protests. “Why do you think we need a literature club, Miss Granger?”

“Well, I think it would help the students develop critical thinking and broaden their horizons.” She started, but deflated when most of the old wizards and witches from the Board of Governors glared in anger at the muggleborn professor. 

“And!” She hastily added. “If we hold clubs such as these after class, the kids are going to be too occupied to wander around the more dangerous parts of the school grounds, such as the forest and the lake.” It wasn’t a lie per se, but it certainly wasn’t Hermione’s biggest motivation. “I believe it will prevent more tragedies from happening.”

“Very well, Miss Granger.” The Headmistress seemed pleased with the explanation. And the glint in her eyes told Hermione that she, too, agreed with the idea of enriching the student’s minds with more culture. A couple of whispers and random comments about this idea mingled in the air for a moment, with the final verdict of the majority of the Board of Governors accepting the suggestion. ( _ Though, some of them seemed displeased by the fact that a muggleborn was going to be teaching ‘critical thinking’ for their pureblooded heirs _ ).

With a smile, McGonadal nodded to Hermione. “We’ll settle the details of this club in my office, tomorrow after breakfast. This meeting is adjourned”

“Very well. Thank you, Headmistress.”

The professors and staff members got up from their seats once again, relieved for their long awaited freedom, but then a new voice boomed in the room. 

“Wait, one more thing!” More groans, moans and whines echoed in the room’s stifling air.

“What is it, Hagrid?” Malfoy snarked at the half giant, that was fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“We ought to tell the kids not to go to the Forbidden Forest. There’s a barghest prowling in the woods. It could hurt them.”

“Then it’s best to kill it!” One of the professors suggested, and Hagrid blanched.

“No! The poor pup!” Hagrid cried. “I can lure it away, just give me some time and don’t let the kids go to the Forest!”

“Fine, Hagrid. The students shouldn’t be walking around the woods anyway. What’s with the current events…” The Headmistress mused. “Anyone else have anything to add?”

The room remained in dead silence for a minute.

“Well then. This meeting is OFFICIALLY adjourned.”

With silent praises to the deities above, and relieved sighs, all the occupants of the room rushed out, fanning themselves to get rid of the stagnant air.

\-----

The next day, Hermione had already settled all the details about her Club with the Headmistress with relative ease and excitement for both parties.

With a grin, she ended her Transfiguration class with the announcement of the club, explaining that it was an opportunity to join a fun extracurricular activity that didn’t involve the risk of breaking a bone or two like Quidditch.

“What would we do in this club, professor?” 

“Honestly?” She chuckled. “Anything, really. But for the most part, talk about literature, poetry, philosophy and music. Both muggle and wizarding.

“Oh!” A muggleborn Ravenclaw student chirped, with her eyes gleaming. “Is it like the Dead Poets Society?”

“Yes! But with less cigarettes, hopefully.” She joked, and handed flyers with the information regarding the club. “Now, if you’re interested, we’ll hold reunions every Friday, after classes. Pass the word along for the other students.”

\-----

When the Friday’s classes ended, Hermione cheerfully paced her way into the assigned classroom she had been given permission to use for her club.

It was a surprisingly spacious room, which had been previously a deserted broom closet that had been magically expanded for Hermione’s free use, much to her delight. 

The walls were decorated with the four Houses banners, illuminated by torches and floating candles. There were several bookcases along the walls, filled with wizarding and muggle tomes of poetry, and novels about romances, fiction, action, adventure and many more. There was even a movie projector and record player that Hermione had managed to smuggle in.

There were several desks and chairs in the room, displayed in a circle, as well as a cozy and small velvet sofa,a couple of armchairs and a chaise. There was also a black board placed on the wall, but Hermione doubted that she’d use much.

She sat on one the desks and waited anxiously for the students to arrive for the very first session of the Literature Club. 

A knock on the door warned Hermione that someone was coming, and soon, a group of three Gryffindors walked to the room.

“Ah, good to see you three!” She greeted Aiden, Cordelia and Maddie with a smile.

“We wouldn’t miss this club meeting for the world, professor!” Aiden beamed, still captivated by the famous teacher. “It’s always an honor to have you as our tutor!”

“Yeah, especially if we don’t have to answer a test to pass this club!” Cordelia quipped, scanning the room with her green eyes.

“Well, then, have a seat! We’ll wait a couple of minutes to see if anyone else comes to the meeting.”

They didn’t have to wait long before more students showed up: One Slytherin seventh year by the name of Benjamin Palmer shyly scurried to one of the desks, while two fourth year Hufflepuffs, a girl named Victoria Roesburg and a boy named Matthews Goldstein also joined their club. Lastly, a lanky fifth year Ravenclaw named Winston Burke quietly entered the room seemingly lost. He remained silent for the most part, with only an off comment about the low pitched howl that had resounded from the Forbidden Forest, right as Hermione was about to start the meeting.

“I think we’re off to a good start!” Hermione smiled at the seven students seated on the desks, expectly looking up to the professor.

“Now.” She started. “This isn’t supposed to be a class. This is a club. We’ll talk, read, write and discuss poetry without discerning who’s a teacher and who’s a student. But since this is the first day, let me start with a poem that I picked up.”

She opened an old and thick book that had been previously concealed by her robes, and ran her eyes over one of the marked pages, as she cleared her throat.

_ “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time _

_ Gather ye Rose-buds while ye may, _

_ Old Time is still a-flying: _

_ And this same flower that smiles today, _

_ Tomorrow will be dying. _

_ The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, _

_ The higher he's a getting; _

_ The sooner will his Race be run, _

_ And neerer he's to Setting. _

_ That Age is best, which is the first, _

_ When Youth and Blood are warmer; _

_ But being spent, the worse, and worst _

_ Times, still succeed the former. _

_ Then be not coy, but use your time; _

_ And while ye may, go marry: _

_ For having lost but once your prime, _

_ You may forever tarry” _

“Now.” She continued. “This is a poem by the 17th century muggle poet, Robert Herrick. Would anyone like to comment on the first strophe?”

“It’s dark.” Cordelia muttered. “It says that no matter how happy you are, you’ll still die at the end.”

“Ah, good interpretation. Anyone else have something to say?” Hermione shrugged her shoulders when the rest of the students remained quiet. 

“Then I believe I must introduce you to a quote of Horace: ‘ _ Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero’ _ . It means  _ ‘Seize the day, and trust as little as you can in tomorrow. _ ’”

The Gryffindors laughed at the quote, and the Ravenclaw boy seemed to gulp in fear and anxiety. She waited for a second to let the students quiet down, but was slightly startled when she heard the quiet click of the door opening from behind the unwitting students, with Draco Malfoy surreptitiously letting himself in.

With a gesture of his hand, he silently asked the Transfiguration professor to continue, as if he wasn’t there. She nodded in response, and looked back at the students, ready to explain the quote.

“The future is unforeseen! Our only certainty is that one day we’ll all be food for worms, ladies and gentlemen. So make the most of your day. Live like there’s no tomorrow, and don’t wait around, expecting that everything is going to fall into place! Make your lives extraordinary!”

“My father consulted a seer, professor!” Ben Palmer, the shy Slytherin boy chimed in. “He says I’m going to be the Head of St. Mungo's one day.”

“Your father talks like the future is set in stone!” Hermione laughed, trying not to downright scoff at the mention of Divination. “Now, let me ask you something, Mr. Palmer: do YOU want to be the Head of St. Mungo’s?”

“I don’t know!” The dirty-blond haired boy cried after a minute. “I’ve never even thought about it.”

“Then give yourself the opportunity to find out for yourself what you want to do! The world is far too big and exciting for you to settle yourself into the wishes of your father!”

The students laughed at the shy, but obstinate ‘yeah’ the boy gave in response to the energetic teacher. She opened her book once again, to read another sonnet, by a wizarding author, regarding the theme.

For hours, the group discussed with incredible and vivid passion about enjoying life and living the moment. They talked about the poems, but also made remarks of their own, and voiced their fears and anxieties about the future. 

All the while, Malfoy sat quietly at the corner of the room, staring with his icy cold eyes into Hermione’s warm ones every once in a while. He didn’t look very impressed with the group’s conversation, but then again, it was always hard to tell what the man was thinking about.

With a knock at the door, one of the prefects warned Hermione and her group that the curfew was approaching, and that it’d be better if the students returned to the dormitories. The Transfiguration professor dismissed the club with a wave of her hand, and promised them that their second meeting would happen next Friday, at the same time.

When the students returned to their dormitories, they left only her and Malfoy sitting alone in the room. The man got up from his chair, and quietly approached the witch. “There’s a possible murderer walking the school grounds.”

“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.” Hermione frowned. “They still haven’t found Selwyn, though.”

“Granger, why are you teaching them poems and philosophy, instead of DADA spells?”

The question came off as abrasive and accusing, which prompted Hermione to cross her arms, raise her chin and puff up her hair, ready to defend her own views.

“Because they’re children! They shouldn’t have to know how to disarm a murderer! They shouldn’t have to come across a murderer at all!” She scoffed, in response to his sudden outburst.

Malfoy had a wry and sad smirk on his face. The bags under his eyes suggested that he hadn’t slept in a while. “We’ve both had to deal with worse, Granger, you know that.”

“Children shouldn't have to fight in wars or be forced to kill, or join a cult against their wishes, either.” She said in a blunt statement, and added, as an afterthought. “And children shouldn't have to wonder if their friends are dead or alive. Or if they’ve been murdered or not.”

“But it happens.” Malfoy sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “It happened before, and it’s happening right now.That’s just how the world works.”

“That’s just how the world works? How horrible!” Hermione screeched with an indignant tone of her voice. “Then I refuse to live in a world such as this! We have the power to change it, Malfoy. Even if we’re doing something as small as teaching kids that they can enjoy their lives, and maybe forget the fact that murderers exist, even if only for one hour or two!”

The wizard remained quiet, still looking at the fellow professor with an unreadable face. Hermione suspected, for the first time, if perhaps the man was blaming himself for the disappearance of the student. He was the Head of the Slytherin House, after all.

“Will you tell me why you showed up? Clearly you’re not interested in Epicureanism ideals.” She changed the subject, in an attempt to stray away from the thoughts of a possible dead student.

“The Board of Governors decided that it would be safer for the students if two teachers were present for these after classes activities.”

Hermione snorted a laugh, looking up to the wizard in front of her. “The Board of Governors decided that it was too risky to have a muggleborn in such close contact with their children.”

“Yeah, that too.” Malfoy chuckled. “I believe they suspect that you’re going to corrupt their youth.”

“Oh?” She laughed along. “And do you agree? Am I a menace to the pureblood ideologies?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt. Which makes this school year so much more entertaining.” He said with a smirk on his face, as he carefully adjusted a stray lock of hair that had escaped Hermione’s bun. His smirk grew wider when he noticed the deep flush on the witch’s cheeks.

“Goodnight, Granger. See you at breakfast.”

‘ _ What a confusing man _ .’ Hermione thought, disgruntled, as she gathered her books and marched back into her chamber, fighting the smile that was forming on her face. ‘ _ I never know when he’s flirting or taunting me _ .’

\------

Hermione was visibly over the moon by the good reception of the Literature Club, a topic that was getting wildly popular among the students throughout the week, and many of the older students started to announce their interest in participating in the nexts sessions. 

By the time Draco arrived at his Potions classroom, his Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs students were chattering wildly about a new and innovative club the Transfiguration professor had started.

“Alright, the lot of you, sit down.” Malfoy barked, smirking when he once again managed to silence his class in mere seconds. He started to write on the blackboard the instructions of a burn salve that was going to be on the test by the end of the semester. “We have lots of work to do.”

After an hour or so of quiet students concentrating in their tasks, the sound of whispers and low hums could be heard coming for one of the stations in the back. Malfoy had straightened himself to yell for the kids to return to their work but he realised the trio had already finished their salve, well ahead from the rest of the class.

“I heard Mr. Selwyn’s talking about his son the other day.” One of the Ravenclaw boys whispered. “The man is pissed off with the whole situation.”

“I mean, can you blame him? The heir of one of the richest families of the sacred 28 just poofed out of existence!” His friend added with a mocking laugh. “He’s probably more pissed off by the fact that he’s going to make another heir than the actual loss of his son. Keeping the family business going and all that rot.”

“Dude! That’s harsh!”

“It’s the truth. That’s how all the oldest pureblood families go.” The boy shrugged, and glanced at the professor that was glaring at them. “Makes me glad I’m just a halfblood. Wouldn’t want all this pressure on my shoulders”

“Boys.” Malfoy chimed in, having heard enough. “Did you finish the task?”

“Yessir!” They smirked, and scooped the salve onto a container to deliver it into Malfoy’s desk.

“Ah, good. Then you can start on your essays for other school work. Stop gossiping about rumors like two elderly women” Malfoy chided, and some other students chuckled when the Ravenclaws flushed, embarrassed by the remark.

\-----

The seven students that had attended the previous meeting were the first to arrive, followed by more students, from different Houses and different years. Hermione smiled, and welcomed them all with open arms. Draco was already there, his cold presence contrasting briskly with the cheerful spirit of his fellow professor, but the students didn’t mind the surly professor. ( _ Many of the girls even seemed to grow in excitement of having the attractive Potions Master attending the meeting _ .)

Victoria, Matthew and the other Hufflepuffs showed up with a tray of sweets and desserts smuggled out of the kitchens, making all the other students cheer and clap for their idea of bringing snacks. With the girl profoundly announcing she had successfully baked a cake without the help of the House Elves.

They started their meeting with a brief recollection of the poems of the first Friday, and what they started to do ever since they learned about the Carpe Diem aphorism.

“Maybe one day I’ll be the Head of St Mungo’s, but that doesn’t mean I can't play the guitar.” Ben Palmer the shy Slytherin confessed to Hermione, as he showed her the recently purchased instrument with a devious smirk on his face.

Draco, for his part, remained quiet and indifferent to all the ramblings of children talking about love, future, hope and poems.

“Recite a poem for us, Mr. Malfoy.” Maddie, the blonde Gryffindor yelled in the back of the room staring at the Potion’s Professor.

“Sorry?” Draco cleared his throat, having been caught by surprise.

“Well, Malfoy.” Hermione grinned. “You’re part of the Literature Club! Everyone here recited or quoted a text already. You’re the only one that remained quiet.”

“He’s a lost cause, professor!” Aiden quipped, trying to look smug with his legs propped on the top of his desk. “The man doesn’t know how to talk about anything other than potions instructions or ingredient properties!”

The Gryffindor girls laughed and batted the boy’s arm, in playfulness, adding to the jests. “Have you ever attended one of his classes? They are drab as hell!”

Draco huffed in annoyance, but refrained from commenting on the infuriating students. However, he couldn’t stop his indignant blush when Hermione chuckled along and agreed with their views. 

“I can only imagine!” Her eyes crinkled with mirth. “But didn’t you know? I’m a sucker for the lost causes. They surprise us in the most intriguing ways.” She said, peering with her brown eyes with golden flecks right into Draco’s greyish and silver eyes. 

“I’ll let you all know that I, in fact, know much more about poetry and literature than any of you give me credit for.” He sniffed. “But as I am so incredibly humble, I prefer to let Granger recite her own, as to not overshadow her.”

“We find that very hard to believe, Mr. Malfoy!” The students laughed, and taunted the man.

“Come on now, Malfoy!” Hermione smirked. “You can’t be part of the Club if you don’t recite anything! Even the dog out in the woods howled his own poem last Friday!”

All of the students now glared with expecting eyes at the Potions Master, and after a pause for consideration, Malfoy sighed in defeat. “Fine, just give me a second to think, witch.”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself!” Hermione joked at the man, and the students chuckled.

“Ah, I’ve thought of one.” Draco snapped his fingers with a smug smile, after less than a minute of thinking. “In honor of the most infuriating busy-haired professor, and the ‘ _ sucker of all the lost causes. _ ’

“ _Destiny guides our fortunes more favorably than we could have expected. Look there, Sancho Panza, my friend, and see those thirty or so wild giants, with whom I intend to do battle and kill each and all of them, so with their stolen booty we can begin to enrich ourselves. This is nobel, righteous warfare, for it is wonderfully useful to God to have such an evil race wiped from the face of the earth."_

_"What giants?" Asked Sancho Panza._

_"The ones you can see over there," answered his master, "with the huge arms, some of which are very nearly two leagues long."_

_"Now look, your grace," said Sancho, "what you see over there aren't giants, but windmills, and what seems to be arms are just their sails, that go around in the wind and turn the millstone."_

_"Obviously," replied Don Quijote, "you don't know much about adventures._ ”

“It’s an excerpt of the Spanish novel Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes.” Malfoy said simply, and the students that occupied the room clapped their hands at the presentation. “The protagonist reminds me of a certain Transfiguration professor a lot. Someone trying to fight for a cause that wasn’t really an issue in the first place.”

She blushed, knowing very well that the man was referencing her endeavors of freeing the House Elves, despite their wishes to continue working for the wizarding kind. However, she still managed to grin when she realized that the man was allowing himself to play along with the ideals of the club, after all.

The students asked the Potions professor about the book, and he explained to them that the author was a muggle man that had been speculated to have encountered a wizard or a magical being that inspired him to write that novel. He then reminisced, if a bit shyly, the fact that he loved to read that book when he was a child, because he thought the protagonist was nothing more than a foolish muggle.

“A good novel, Mr. Malfoy. And filled with good quotes, indeed.” She replied, in a neutral tone and quoted the same novel. “‘ _ There is no book so bad that it does not have something good. _ ’”

Hermione took the opportunity to talk about satires and comedy in Literature. “Sometimes” she added, amidst her musings, looking at the taller professor at the other side of the room. “We all just need a new perspective.”

While the professors and students talked among themselves, one of the students peered at the bookshelves, and widened her eyes when she located the Spanish novel that they had been discussing. She cleared her throat, and let herself be heard by the other people in the room, as she opened the book in a random excerpt.

“ _ Freedom, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that heaven ever gave to man. Neither the treasures hidden in the earth nor those the sea covers can equal it. For freedom, as well as for honor, one can and should risk one’s life. And the opposite is also true—captivity is the worst evil that can befall men _ .”

As they absorbed the words uttered by the Slytherin girl, they students thought about the missing student. The rumors about his father forcing him into a life he didn’t want, just because of the family he was born into. A tragedy if they’ve ever seen one. For the two professors, the passage also reminded them of the war they had fought on, seven years prior.

“Hey, there’s that black dog out at the edge of the woods!” Matthew, the Hufflepuff boy gushed in excitement.

All the students huddled together to look out the window, as they watched an enormous and scruffy animal peering at them, with red-fiery eyes. Hermione and Draco managed to subdue the excited students, as they recognized the beast to be the barghest that Hagrid had warned about in an earlier Board of Governors Meeting.

“He looks like he was listening to us!”

“I think we should make him our Club mascot!”

“How do we know it’s a he?”

“I feel it in my bones.”

“Gross.”

“Children, settle down!” Hermione tried to call back to the attention of the students. 

“Come on, Miss Granger!” The Gryffindor trio smiled, pointing at the black beast that was watching the window with an unnerving intensity in its eyes. “I think he liked the Don Quixote quotes!”

“We can have it as our mascot.” Draco offered, as a diplomatic way of quieting down the students. “But it’s going to be a hands off pet.” He warned with a cold stare that killed whatever wishes of going outside the Campus and getting close to their new mascot.

“Let's choose a name for him!”

“Or her!”

In the end, all of the students reached the conclusion that their new pet should be called Horace, and he’d be a good representation of the Literature Club, as there was no dog representing any of the Houses of Hogwarts. With some of the more artistic members of the group already sketching out a few designs of the Black Dog to work as the symbol of the club.

\-----

Once again, someone warned the group that the curfew was almost up, and all the students hurried along to their respective dormitories, talking about freedom, fights for lost causes, and black dogs. 

“Kids are a handful, aren’t they?’ Malfoy huffed, plopping his body down a stuffed armchair with a thud and basking at the glorious silence of the room.

“What?” Hermione chuckled, sitting on the chaise opposite to him. “You’ve been a professor for like, five years and only now realized that?”

“Ah, but my classes are different. They have a clear task to complete, and they’ll stay put until they finish it. And generally speaking, they shut up when I tell them to.”

“And yet there’s only so much a professor can do to truly subdue a student.”

“I suppose.” Malfoy chuckled. “I mean, considering how wild THESE students are, I feel like I should write apology notes to every professor that had to ever put up with me.”

“Now that’s an understatement. But then again, you’re not the one that set a professor’s robes on fire.”

“Oh Merlin.” They laughed together, recalling old tales of their days as students back at Hogwarts.

\-----

For a month, they continued their reunions every Friday, with growing numbers and interest in the club, much to Hermione’s excitement. Throughout their encounters, they discussed many subjects, ranging from their views on societal expectations down to their favorite foods and music tastes.

They talked about literature, authors, poets, music, movies and even video games ( _ provided by the younger muggleborns and half bloods _ ). Sometimes, they wondered who’d end up as an author, artist or musician among their group.

McGonadal had congratulated Hermione and Draco’s efforts on the club, as it was evident that there was now more inter house unity between the members of the Literature Club. And Draco, in a rare occasion of vulnerability, admitted to Hermione that he was amazed with her way of introducing the muggle culture to the pureblooded children ( _ and himself, Hermione supposed _ ) in a seamless manner.

Hermione couldn’t help but pay more attention to the development and interactions of the first seven members of the Literature Club.

Maddie, Aiden and Cordelia, the three inseparable Gryffindors, were the most lively of all students. They’d often have the most brash opinions and strong convictions, always making sure to bring up the most far fetched points. Sometimes, Hermione wondered ( _ with secret elation _ ), if they did that just to get a rise out of the other students.

Ben would often bring his guitar and play, sing and compose songs, along with the other musically inclined students, which seemed to be composed of mostly Slytherins. Hermione was happy to denote that the boy was starting to question with more assertiveness the future that had already been planned out ahead of him. 

Victoria would draw and paint the different students, teachers, even authors of the books they analysed, as well as the beloved mascot of the club, as well as other forest creatures that Matthew would often bring up and talk about with excitement. Both students, as well as the other Hufflepuffs, would always bring food and baked goods for their meetings and were the most receptive to the newcomers every Friday.

Winston was quiet for the most part, but he showed his own talent when writing poems with precise metric, and he’d show his passion for numbers even through Literature. The other Ravenclaws, for their part, would often contribute with insightful commentaries about the life of the authors and movie directors, and would wonder and derail their thoughts about different perspectives regarding a scene or an interaction between characters.

Horace was also a very imposing presence during the Fridays.The black dog seemed to know his role as the Mascot for the club, for every start of the meetings he’d howl a solemn song, and the student’s would take it as a sign that they were allowed to start their recitals.

And when the meetings reached their end, cutting dangerously close to the curfew for the students, Draco and Hermione would remain to clean up the mess left by the rambunctious group. The two professors would often banter, flirt and talk about different subjects. Sometimes it would be regarding the previous meeting, some other times it would be about the war, and their subsequent eight year together.

Hermione would always claim that her favorite part of the Friday evenings were the reunions with the students, but secretly, she knew she loved talking privately to talk just a tad more. 

\-----

“Miss Granger.” The high pitched screech of the old and boorish Arithmancy professor echoed in the Hogwarts Great Hall during the breakfast. The greying witch sat herself with a thud next to the Transfiguration professor, who only hummed in acknowledgement for her colleague.

“Your little club has been a success, it seems.” The old witch drawled on. “It’s what all my students seem to talk about lately.”

“Ah, thank you, Mrs. Hager. I’m glad the kids are having fun.” Hermione smiled, but knew that the crone would follow with some sort of criticism.

“Fun?” She snarked, and continued, pointing a crooked finger into Hermione’s chest. “The kids don’t need fun. They need to study! The other day, one of my students received a bad mark, and he didn’t even look apologetic! He just shrugged his shoulders and told me he didn’t want to work with Arithmancy anyway!”

“Why would he apologise for a bad mark?”

“Because he failed to pay attention to me!”

“Maybe he just doesn’t like the subject?”

“I don’t care if he likes arithmancy or not, he needs to be good at it if he wants to get a good job!”

“Mrs Hager, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.” Hermione huffed. “As long as they get grades good enough to pass your classes, the kids will be alright.”

“Outrageous!” Mrs. Hanger harrumphed and got up from her seat, shuffling to sit next to the Potions Master.

“That little Transfiguration professor!” She started, looking at the pureblooded man. “Is saying kids don’t need to excel on their grades!”

“Oh no.” Malfoy mocked, and continued to eat his breakfast without saying another word.

“Mr. Malfoy, you’ve been selected by the Board of Governors to keep an eye on Miss Granger.”

“Yes, I’m aware. What of it?”

“You seem to allow her to do largely whatever she wants!” Hanger cried. “This girl is unprepared to show how the wizarding world works! She didn’t have the same education as you and I did!”

Draco chose not to respond to the other professor, hoping that she’d realise that whining about it would get her nowhere, but instead, she scoffed at the man.

“Mr Malfoy, I know you and Miss Granger were… involved in your last year of schooling.”

Draco choked on his food for a second, and glared at the woman. He wondered how the hell that hag could have discovered their ‘ _ relationship _ ’ back in the 8th year.

“The Board of Governors thought that it wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, we thought it might even help you curb that witch’s ideas. But perhaps we were mistaken?”

“Mrs. Hager, has anyone told you how lovely you are today?” He said with a wry smile.

“Why, no, Mr. Malfoy.” The woman blushed and preened.

“Go figure!” He snarked, getting up from the table and retreating back to the dungeons. 

\-----

“Hey guys.” Matthew called out for his friends, as he looked out from the Hufflepuff’s common room, in which the trio of Gryffindors were also lounging on the sofas. “Horace is at the edge of the woods again.”

“Maybe he’s hungry.” Victoria suggested. “I’ve never seen him eating anything, and he looks very skinny.”

"Is it safe?” Cordelia, asked, fearing the red-eyed beast, approaching the Hufflepuffs with her friends behind her.

“We can try to just put the food on the floor, and he’ll eat it later.” Matthew suggested, already making his way to the kitchens to gather some chicken meat.

As they approached the wooded area, they realised that Horace did not move from his spot, always just silently watching the group of students.

“His mouth is bleeding.” Aiden observed.

“Maybe he got injured?” Victoria suggested, as she threw a piece of chicken that was quickly being gobbled by the dog.

“Should we help him?” Matthew tried to get closer, but was held back by the red haired girl, as she noticed one of the professors running towards them.

“Kids!” Hagrid cried out loudly, scaring Horace back into the Forest. “What are you doing?”

“Huh… Feeding a dog?”

“That ain’t a dog!” Hagrid gestured in despair. “That’s a barghest! It could have eaten you!”

“A barghest?”

“Yes, a beast that manifests itself with the death of an important person, and an omen of death in of itself! Now get back to the Castle, you shouldn’t be frolicking around the forest anyway!” The man shooed them away and back into the Castle.

“Death of an important person.” Matthew mused.

“Like the pureblood heir of one of the sacred 28?” Victoria said with a strangled voice. It had been a while since they'd discussed the disappearance of the Slytherin student, as most of the discussions revolved around the clubs and school work after a month had passed. “So it’s official? Pat’s really dead?”

“We don’t know. They didn’t even find the body.”

“Then let’s find it!” Aiden shouted, with balled fists, trying to march into the forest, but being stopped by the other students. “Clearly, he must be somewhere in the woods!”

“Not today!” Maddie hissed at the brunette Gryffindor. “The sun will set soon and Hagrid is literally looking at us from his cabin!”

“Damn. But we WILL check on the forest. Pat’s body deserves to be buried, at least!”

\-----

When Friday arrived, the students stumbled out of the classroom in a dreary pace to meet Hermione and Draco for the club activity. After the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors discussed Horace's presence with Hagrid, they started to talk about the missing friend once again.

While the two professors discussed some poems and texts with the other students present at the club, the seven original members had been scurried to the back of the room, completely unaware that the Transfiguration and Potions professors were secretly hearing the conversation.

“Think about it.” Cordelia considered the possibility that some other family from the pureblood society might have ordered a hitman to deal with the heir of the richest family, and voiced her concerns to her friends. “It isn’t unheard of people committing heinous acts in the name of power.”

“Jesus Christ.” Maddie shuddered. “You purebloods need to put up with the craziest things.”

“Tell me about it.” Cordelia sighed, and added quietly. “Mum wants me to marry by the end of the School year. She already made the arrangements with a Mr. Brodeur or whatever. I don’t even get to meet him before the end of the year, he’s a Beauxbatons student.”

“What?” Aiden gasped. “That’s barbaric.”

“That’s just how the wizarding world works. I also have an engagement contract with a younger Slytherin” Ben shrugged his shoulders. “As the muggles say: _ If life gives you lemons, make a lemonade _ .”

“I hate lemons, and I hate lemonade! Why should I put up with this disgusting drink?” Cordelia hissed, in a sudden fit of quiet rage, her voice raising and quickly gaining the attention of all the occupants of the room. “Why can’t I throw the lemons back at life? Make them all regret the day they thought they could give lemons to me!”

At the other side of the room, Hermione’s voice raised in a somber and clear tone, as she gingerly opened her poetry book in one of the many worn out pages:

_ “Invictus _

_ By William Ernest Henley _

_ Out of the night that covers me _

_ Black as the pit from pole to pole, _

_ I thank whatever gods may be _

_ For my unconquerable soul. _

_ In the fell clutch of circumstance, _

_ I have not winced nor cried aloud. _

_ Under the bludgeonings of chance _

_ My head is bloody, but unbowed. _

_ Beyond this place of wrath and tears _

_ Looms but the Horror of the shade, _

_ And yet the menace of the years _

_ Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. _

_ It matters not how strait the gate, _

_ How charged with punishments the scroll, _

_ I am the master of my fate: _

_ I am the captain of my soul.” _

Hermione emphasised the two last verses of the poem, with the clear objective of showing the pureblooded students what she had been trying to do ever since she started the club. Draco cleared his throat when the group of the seven students looked at the two teachers.

“I may know a thing or two about difficult tasks my pureblooded family made me do.” He chuckled lightly, lightly grabbing his covered left arm. “And really, I don’t think making this proverbial lemonade will do you any good.”

The distressed girl managed to laugh at the professor’s bad joke, and she approached the man with wide doe-eyes. “What should I do then, professor? I can’t just run away from my duty to… Provide an heir.”

“Why not?” Malfoy shrugged. “That’s what my ex-fiancé and I did. She’s now happily married to a German witch, living the best life she can, as far as I can tell.”

“But.” The girl hesitated. “Didn’t her family get angry?”

“They were livid! And my father was too, but he couldn’t do anything about it. She did what she thought was best for her. I’m not saying that it was the easy path to take. As a wise wizard once said:  _ We must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy _ .”

“This is your life, Miss Knox.” Hermione added, with a hand on her shoulder, also looking at the other Slytherin pureblood student. “Shouldn’t you be the one living it?”

“I…” Cordelia choked a sob. “I’ll talk to my mum as soon as I can.”

“We’ll be here, if you need us.” Draco smiled.

“Carpe Diem!” The students watching the interaction chanted, in show of support.

\-----

As the students returned to their dormitories and only Draco and Hermione were left, they sat together on the small sofa in the room.

“So.” She started, trying to ignore how close they both were. 

“So.” He chuckled, setting his arm across the sofa. “Life would be easier if the purebloods got their heads out of their asses for once in their life and stopped having kids for the sake of having kids.”

“That’s… Well, yeah.” Hermione sighed, letting her hair fall free down from the tight bun she had previously put up. “I didn’t know you had broken off with Astoria because she was gay.”

“I didn’t. Not exactly.” He drawled, and added as an afterthought “And she’s bi, by the way.” 

“Oh. Then why did you two break off?”

“For the same reason you and the weasel aren’t married either.” He looked at the witch in the eye. “We work better as friends, not lovers.”

“And...” She hesitated. “What about us?”

“Why did we ' _break up_ '?” He mused, getting closer to Hermione, touching her knee with his own. “I’d reckon it was because we were still dead set in doing what people expected us to do, instead what we wanted to do. We always insisted it was just fooling around.”

“And look how foolish we were.” She chuckled, settling her head on his shoulder and playing with his blond hair. “Molly sent me a howler when she found out that Ron wanted to travel around the world and meet new witches. She thought I had broken his heart.”

The blond wizard let out a low laugh in response, and his chest vibrated against Hermione’s hair, making her smile fondly.

“The Greengrasses discovered our ‘ _ fling _ ’ back in the eight year.” Draco said, after a pause, putting his arm around her waist. “They threatened my mother with promises of telling Rita Skeeter the story. They said it would be a good headline: ` _ Golden Girl and ex-Death Eater, Romeo and Juliet of the wizarding world _ ?’”

“Oh Draco…” She felt his hand squeeze her midriff. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve always been a coward.” He grimaced, and then managed a wry laugh. “I was so relieved when Astoria told me she had no intention of marrying me. I even arranged the Portkeys for her!”

“Was it just a fling for you? Back then?” Hermione asked, revisiting his words, and biting and gnawing on her lip.

“No. Not to me, at least.” 

“Well, it wasn’t just a fling for me either.” 

“Then why are we wasting time?” He lifted her chin with his hands, making her look up. The man swiped his thumb across Hermione’s already slightly swollen lips ( _ from all the biting she had done in a nervous tick. _ )

“Carpe Diem.” She said, just before pulling his head down to capture his lips with her own.

\-----

“Granger.” Malfoy called out for the petite woman that was marking some essays in the library.

“What is it?”

“I want to try something new for tomorrow’s club meeting.” He drawled with a smirk, placing a quick kiss on top of the witch’s hair.

“Sure, what are you planning?” She looked up, curious.

“A secret, my dear.” His eyes crinkled with mirth when she gave him a stern look. “Nothing illegal or dangerous, I swear.” He added, after the exasperated expression of the witch. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do trust you.” She laughed, and turned back to her essays. “But if it ends up as something illegal or dangerous, I reserve the right to kill you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

So, the next day, Malfoy gathered all the students to the empty Quidditch pitch, and gave all of them brooms to fly around Hogwarts, with an embellished discourse about ‘ _ how art and architecture are often one in the same _ ’ and ‘ _ explore the Castle grounds through the birdseye’ perspective. _ ’

“Race your friends, and owls!” He concluded, as all the young witches and wizards were excitedly climbing their brooms to soar through the sky. “Fly as high as you dare! Remember to enjoy this moment, and don’t think about tomorrow!”

At the distance, Horace’s barks echoed and startled the birds, making his presence known for the members of the Literature Club.

“Malfoy.” Hermione hissed, when the professor approached her with a broom, and all the students cheered for her to fly along them. “Did you arrange this just to torment me?”

“You wound me, Granger!” He said with a dramatic flair, but his devious smirk was enough evidence for Hermione to confirm her suspicions. “I thought you trusted me.”

“I should have specified that I trust for the most part, then!” She crossed her arms and glared at the taller man, who was hovering slightly in front of the woman, with an outstretched hand, inviting her to get on the broom. 

“Absolutely not! I don’t fly, Malfoy!”

“Come on now, Granger! Carpe diem!” He smiled when the kids agreed with him. “You only live once!”

She flushed, affronted by the fact that she had her own words thrown back at her. 

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, and approached the man, accepting his help when climbing on the same broom as him. “But if we both fall to our deaths, Malfoy, I’ll haunt you forever in Hell.”

She settled herself safely between his arms, and grabbed tightly at the broom’s handle, yelping in fear when the man raised them both with a start. Malfoy chuckled at her reaction, and she thought about smacking him in response, but the fear of letting go from the broom was bigger than her desire to punish Malfoy.

“Relax, Granger.” Malfoy whispered in her ear, after he settled an even pace, flying over the Great Lake. “

“You’re doing great, Miss Granger!” One of the Ravenclaws students cheered on the professor, as she boldly let go of the broom’s handle and settled herself more comfortably into Draco’s hold.

“This isn’t even the first time you rode with a dragon~” Maddie quipped at the Transfiguration professor, and she gasped in embarrassment for the innuendo, surprise for the knowledge of her escape from the Gringotts Vault at the back of a dragon, and bewilderment for the audacity of the student. 

“Miss Cameron, I will dock points for this!” Hermione managed to reply, after a second of gathering her bearings, but the student had already soared away.

“Just don’t fly too close to the sun, or you’ll fall and drown like Icarus did!” Victoria laughed, also observing the pair of professors.

“Just so you know, the higher you go, the colder it gets, so that myth makes no sense!” Another Ravenclaw chimed in. “She’d just asphyxiate to death if she got too high! Or maybe die of hypothermia!”

“None of you are helping!” Hermione cried, and Draco laughed loudly, every once in a while he pretended to have lost control of the broom, just to get a rise out of the feisty witch.

\-----

As the weeks passed by, the professors continued to explore and announce their new relationship, with a general excitement and approval of their students that were always far too interested in the romance lives of the school dwellers rather than their own school work.

For the Board of Governors, however, that recent development regarding their least liked muggleborn had put their plans of suppressing the Literature Club’s anarchistic and hedonistic views to a painful stagger, forcing them to reconsider their actions, and try to find another way to stop the actions and ideologies of the Club.

By the time the next Friday meeting was starting, both Draco and Hermione were late to arrive at the room, leaving the students alone to gleefully speculate what the couple were doing, read their own poetry and talk about the ‘Dead Poets Society’ movie they had watched in their last meeting, as per request of the many pureblooded members that wanted to understand and see what was the inspiration for their own Club.

“What if.” Ben muttered, while analysing a Brazilian poem about the certainty of death, and remembering the haunting scenes of the movie that had fascinated him. “Pat wasn’t murdered in the end? What if he died in some other way?”

“You don’t think he…” Aiden choked on his tea.

“No. He wouldn’t!” Another student hissed, with tears already brimming on her eyes.

“I mean!” Ben tried to defend his suspicions. “It is a possibility!”

“What happened?” Hermione asked, as she entered the meeting room with Draco right behind her. She gazed at the distressed students with concern, and quickly set her books down on the table to properly investigate the situation.

“Professor.” Matthew muttered with a meek voice, as he looked out the window to stare at the red eyes of the barghest ( _ the omen of death, as Hagrid had warned _ ). “We’re discussing the chance that maybe Pat… Well, he might have committed... Suicide.”

The two professors held their breaths and widened their eyes. They settled themself in the center of the room, watching the eyes of the children looking at them, seemingly at loss.

“Well, what makes you say that?” Hermione started, trying to remember the unassuming presence of the student that had once attended her own classes.  _ Would he take his own life? How could she not see that it was a possibility? If so, could she have done something to prevent it? _

“It’s just.” Ben stopped himself for a second and picked another line of thought. “Most pureblood families put a lot of pressure on their heirs, as you both know.”

The professors remained quiet, nodding in understandment. 

“And Pat. He hated it.” The Slytherin boy recalled the days his friend would often cry about how unfair it was for him to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. “His father was already planning to send him to the most demanding university in Europe. He was going to have a seat on the Wizengamot and he wasn’t even of age yet!”

“I remember Pat.” Victoria said in a haughty voice. “He used to come to the Kitchens a lot, and I used to talk to him there, while we baked some cakes. He wanted to be a baker, if you can believe that.”

“We know that a lot of purebloods have gone through more stricter demands, and didn’t commit suicide.” The Gryffindor trio stared unabashedly at the blond Potions Master in front of them. “But what if…”

“Let me stop you right there.” Draco sighed, rubbing his eyes with his calloused hands, already feeling a headache creeping in. “The experiences and hardships of others don’t invalidate your own. It doesn’t matter if other people have it harder. Though I hope that if this is the case… I just hope that Patrick didn’t have to come to that.”

The room had stagnated into a somber mood, as Draco and Hermione sat them down to assure them that no one was to blame in situations such as these. It was a difficult topic to discuss, but the professors made their best attempt to explain with honest and blunt answers, to make the students understand the serious topic of mental illnesses. 

Hermione was standing closely to Draco, holding his hand firmly. Though neither professor mentioned it to the students, the subject of the conversation was especially hard for Malfoy, and Hermione was well aware of the fact, allowing herself to be the main source of information.

“I know his disappearance is hard on all of you.” Draco finally choked with a heavy tone on his voice. “But let’s not jump to conclusions. We’ve never even found the body.”

“We’ll find Pat’s body today.” Aiden hissed under his breath, looking at his two other friends, which nodded in agreement. The three Gryffindors were once again hidden among the bookshelves, pretending to be talking about something else.

“Do we have a plan?” Cordelia whispered, directing the trio to stand behind one of the bookshelves, hidden from the professors.

“We go to the Forbidden Forest, follow Horace, find the body, and bring him back to Hogwarts for a proper burial. Simple as that” The boy buffed.

“Woah, infallible.” Maddie snorted and shook her head. “Can’t possibly imagine any way this couldn’t go wrong.”

“Got any better ideas? Because I’m not going to sit around and do nothing anymore.”

“Well, no.”

“Then we’ll go tonight. Hagrid is always walking around the perimeter of the Forest during the day anyway.” Cordelia agreed, looking out the window to stare at the red eyes of the wailing barghest that always watched them at their meetings.

“Then let’s go back to the rest of the group, they can’t suspect us.”

\-----

And after all the students left the meeting room, the couple of professors stayed silent, holding each other on the small sofa in a comforting, but forlorn silence.

“Would you like to talk about your mother?” The witch asked, in a soft whisper.

“There’s nothing to say.” Draco sighed, and nestled his head on the crook of Hermione’s neck, breathing in the scent of lavender. “She had an illness, and I couldn’t quite help her in time.”

“Stop it. That wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, Patrick’s death isn’t your fault, either. Sometimes we can’t notice any signs of what’s happening.”

After a minute of silence, Draco leaned in to lightly caress Hermione’s lips with his own, in a chaste kiss, but the brunette witch grasped his shirt’s collar with a tug before he could pull away, and deepened the kiss.

Gently and carefully, he guided them both to lay down at the sofa, with the witch on top of him, while he grunted with a slight discomfort at the sudden tightness at his trousers. He let his hands explore the woman’s body and smirked when he heard the soft moans and gasps coming from her.

“Should we go back to my chambers?” Hermione asked, with a husky voice and a sly smile.

“We could just stay here” Draco chuckled, caressing the underside of the witch’s bare breasts. “It’s not like any of the students would know.”

“Oh~” She laughed, biting her swollen and reddened lips. “Then perhaps we should-”

Whatever wanton suggestion Hermione was about to propose to her lover was promptly interrupted by some loud howling and barks coming from the Forbidden Forest, soon followed by the screams of distress of presumed students.

With a start, both professors jumped out of the sofa and scrambled to adjust their robes before rushing to the Forest to investigate the sound.

\-----

The Forbidden Forest was eerily quiet during the night. As soon as the trio of Gryffindors said their goodbyes to the other members of the Literature Club, they swiftfully made their way down to the woods, managing to avoid prefects and Filch by pure luck and a bit of magic.

Soon, they were already trudging through the forest paths, looking out for possible locations of where their friend’s body could be.

“Guys.” Cordelia shuddered and trembled, though she wasn’t sure if it was entirely because of the cold air. The sudden hoots of an owl startled her, making her jump closer to the other two Gryffindors.“I’m scared.”

“We’ve been walking for hours!” The other girl cried. “Can’t we just agree that having a search party in the middle of the night was kind of a stupid idea? I mean, if the aurors couldn’t find the body, who’s to say that we can?”

“Oh please.” Aiden rolled his eyes, and continued to soldier on the path illuminated by his wand. “Why are you two whining so much?”

“We are not whining, you idiot, we’re just being logical!” The dark haired girl hissed.

Before the brunette boy could snap back at his friend, a loud bark and an angry growl coming from behind made him turn abruptly. He widened his eyes in fear when noticed Horace standing perfectly camouflaged by the dark and shadowed trees, with only his bright red eyes and blood stained teeth visible to the students.

“Down boy.” Aiden tried to feign confidence, but took a step back when the barghest bristled his fur.

“Let’s go back to the Castle!” Maddie hissed, her green eyes brimming with tears. 

“Maddie, please.” Aiden insisted. “If Harry Potter managed to kill the Dark Lord when he was our age, we can deal with a scrawny dog!”

Before the girls could have retorted to the other Gryffindor, Horace barked and howled loudly, before lurching himself into the students, baring his teeth, eliciting a pained scream by the boy that fell to the ground, trying to protect himself from the angry beast and the distressed shouts of the two girls, trying to hex and curse the black dog to chase him away, to no avail.

“STUPEFY” 

Malfoy’s voice echoed through the woods, as his spell hit the barghest in the chest, throwing him away from the boy that was wriggling in pain on the forest’s floor.

The wizard positioned himself between the students and the black dog, that was already getting up and shaking his head energetically to regain his fighting stance, while Hermione rushed to stand by the side of the students, and assess the damages.

Draco squared his shoulders and pointed the wand at Horace’s direction, ready to fire another stunning spell at the beast, but hesitated, widening his eyes in confusion. The barghest, for his part, also remained still, looking at the blond Slytherin in the eyes, and eventually coughing up the blood that was always accumulating inside his mouth.

“Granger, let’s go back.” Malfoy ordered, taking Aiden by the arm and dragging him back into the Castle, while Hermione guided the other girls to keep up with the quickened pace of the wizard in front of her. 

“What happened?” She directed her question to the taller man, but he shook his head, indicating he was going to talk about it only later.

“Why were you three in the Forest?” She asked after a second, with a stern voice.

“We were looking for Pat’s body.”

“During the night?! With a beast prowling the woods?”

“The barghest is only there because we haven’t buried Pat’s body yet!” Aiden shouted. “He needs to find peace!”

“We don’t even know if he’s in the forest!” Hermione sighed, feeling much more tired than before. “And none of you should be involved with this matter in the first place.”

“No one else is doing anything!”

“We are!” Draco huffed in exasperation. “But these things take time. What makes you think that three kids had better chances of finding a body in the middle of the night than the entire staff and aurors together?

“Enough of this.” Hermione snapped, as they finally reached the Hospital Wing. She swallowed a lump on the throat when she finally looked at the Gryffindor boy in a properly lighted area. He was covered from head to toe in dark and dried out blood. 

Madam Pomfrey had been woken up by the bickering group and bitterly accessed the situation. Despite the apparent aggressiveness from Horace’s attack and the copious amount of blood that stained his robes, the boy did not have any major injuries, apart from a few scratches and shallow cuts in the skin for being thrown to the stick and stone-covered dirt by a massive dog. 

“We’ll keep you here for the night, however.” Pomfrey said with a stern voice. “Just as a precaution.”

“I knew it!” Another voice cut through the air of the Hospital Wing. “I knew all this commotion was Granger’s fault!” Mrs. Hager appeared from the doorway, with a smug smile, and a raised chin.

“What are you doing here, Mrs. Hager?” Draco groaned in irritation.

“Checking out all the ruckus you lot caused this night, of course!” She crossed her arms. “And it looks like a student was injured while under Miss Granger’s lousy supervision!”

“Injured? Lady, these are just scratches!” Aiden snorted, wiggling his arm.

“And it wasn’t Miss Granger’s fault, either.” Maddie added, with a raised brow.

“It doesn’t matter! First thing in the morning I’ll be talking to the Board of Governors! They will surely revoke the Literature Club after this stunt you pulled.” The screeching woman said, already turning around to walk away. “Clearly, none of this would happen if it wasn’t for Miss Granger’s dangerous practices of preaching children to break the law and disrespect our morals!”

The Arithmancy professor left the room with a loud thud, as she shut the door close, letting the other occupants to mull over the words of impending doom for the Club’s future.

“Wait, what do you mean they’ll cancel the Literature Club?!”

“Ah.” Hermione shook her head sadly, after a second of silence. “That’s actually something I knew was going to happen sooner or later.”

“But that’s not even fair!” Cordelia gasped. “You really had nothing to do with our stupid decision of going to the woods!”

“They would just find another excuse to disband the group, then.” Malfoy sighed, and sat on the chair next to the hospital bed occupied by Aiden. “The Board of Governors were already waiting for an opportunity like this to bring down the Club.”

“Which is to say.” Hermione added with a kind smile, while placing a gentle hand on the dark haired girl’s shoulder. “That none of this is your fault.”

“Chin up, kids.” Draco said with a confident smirk, looking at the crestfallen students that huddled together near the hospital bed.. “This isn’t the end of the world.”

“You’ll have a lot more free time on Fridays nights now.” Hermione said with a similar smirk. “Maybe you can hangout with your friends and talk about books and movies?”

“But we don’t want free time! We want-” Cordelia interrupted herself, realizing the implications. “Oh. I see”

“Just make sure to keep it a secret.” Hermione winked, and Draco chuckled by her side.

\-----

After finally returning to her chambers, Hermione and Draco settled themselves at her bed, too tired to do anything other than cuddle and talk.

“What happened back in the forest? You stopped out of nowhere and ordered us all to leave” Hermione asked, after placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’m not sure. Somehow, I could read Horace’s thoughts.”

“Oh? With legilimency?” The witch lifted her head with curiosity, and he nodded in confirmation. “And what was he thinking about?”

“Hard to say.” Draco shuddered, remembering the interaction with the barghest. “It was like… he was screaming in agony. And pleading for someone to help him.”

“What?”

“He couldn’t really form well structured thoughts, but I think there’s something… human inside the dog’s mind.”

“Let’s go to sleep.” Hermione sighed, after a moment of consideration. “Today’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, and you’ll need the energy for tomorrow’s public execution of your Club.” He chuckled, and she sighed into the crook of his neck.

\-----

During the breakfast, Mrs Hager strutted to the Professors’ table like a proud peacock, and dramatically pulled a piece of parchment binded with the Official Seal of the Board of Governors, waving the rolled paper in front of Hermione’s face, while Draco quietly seethed in concealed anger.

“Looks like your lessons on debauchery are over.”

“Oh my!” Hermione chuckled grimly. “I’m impressed! Seems like the Board of Governors CAN be efficient, after all!”

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere, darling!” The older woman replied with a saccharine tone. “You should be thankful that they aren’t firing you altogether!”

“Mrs Hager, sit down.” McGonadal chided the professor, already aware of the current situation with the Club. 

The Headmistress had already arranged a meeting with Hermione after breakfast, and in there, the young witch was permitted to hold one last session on the last Friday, so that she could give a proper goodbye to the ( _ now former _ ) members.

\-----

At their last Friday reunion, Hermione pulled an old vinyl record and played an A Night at The Opera album, letting the cheerful melody of Freddie Mercury’s voice fill the room.

“We won’t be discussing deep philosophical questions for today, I’m afraid.” She chuckled, at the confused stares of the students. “I’d rather our last meeting to be as light hearted as possible.”

“Well, then!” Victoria smiled, already setting the table with plenty of food. “Let’s start the party!”

And soon, the students mingled through the room, enjoying their food and drinks, playing games, dancing to the sound of the music, and doing their best to forget about the bittersweet pang in their chests to know that this would be their last official meeting.

After giving a heartfelt speech to the students about ‘ _ how fascinating and pleasurable it was to be able to get to know better the brilliant minds of the young witches and wizards. _ ’ and assuring the students that they could still read and discuss their poetry among themselves, Hermione and Draco took their own time enjoying the moment.

The professors were dancing together, swaying in each others arms to the sound of ' _Love of My Life_ ', with the man softly whispering in the woman’s ear about their own future together. “Our children will probably rule Hogwarts, if they take after you.”

“They’ll probably force the retirement of half of the Board of Governors.” She chuckled. “Do you think there will be a Secret Literature Club by the time they get here?”

“If there isn’t, we’ll make sure they make one themselves.” Draco smirked, kissing the top of her hair.

A pained howl coming from outside called for the attention of the professors, and they saw Horace prowling at the edge of the woods.

“Professor Granger.” Matthew said, making impossibly adorable puppy eyes., while holding a plate of sweets on his hand. “Can’t we give this to Horace? He’s also a member of the Club.”

“Sure, but I’ll be the one to deliver.” She smiled, taking the plate from the Hufflepuff’s hand. 

The students watched through the window the two professors approaching the barghest, as he sat patiently still.

“Hey Horace.” Hermione started, setting the plate on the floor. “This is for you.”

The dog elegantly got up and trotted to the plate, comically losing his composure as soon as he took the first bites of the food. The muggleborn woman furrowed her brow in concern when she noticed the plate getting smeared by blood.

“He’s grateful for the cakes.” Draco said, using his legilimency on the beast’s mind. “It’s still hard to tell what he’s thinking. He’s in pain.”

“Probably has something to do with all the blood on his muzzle.”

“Let’s get back inside.” Draco suggested, as he wrapped an arm around her waist, comforting the witch that looked distressed with the pained beast.

“Draco?” She said, while pacing through the empty corridors of Hogwarts to return to the Literature Club. He hummed in acknowledgement and the witch continued, with a small voice. The presence of Horace was always a reminder of the missing student. “Promise me our children won’t have to grow up thinking that they need to please us.”

“Hermione.” The man chided slightly, but he knew where she was coming from. “All I ever wish for my children is their happiness.”

“I know. Me too.”

\-----

When the party was over, and the students were gone, Hermione and Draco were once again seated on the small sofa in a comfortable silence while burrowing themselves into each other's arms.

“We never got to christen this room last week.” Draco mused. “We got interrupted by the typical Gryffindor daring and death-defying spirit.”

“A shame.” Hermione chuckled. “And this is our last night in this room, too.”

“So, what do you say, Hermione? Want to make use of this last chance?”

“You’re incorrigible!” She laughed, already grabbing his tie and dragging him down to meet her lips.

\-----

After a couple of hours of passion, the couple cuddled together naked on the sofa, with bated breaths and swollen lips. Draco was playing with a curly lock of hair of his lover, while she gleefully buried her nose on the crook of his neck, as her hands traced the scars that marred his chest.

As Draco was about to suggest another round before they ended the night, they were interrupted by light scratches on the locked door. They both jumped out of the sofa, gathering their clothes and casting all the cleaning spells possible to hide the evidence of their activities, and with a nervous smile on her face, Hermione unlocked and opened the door.

She was surprised to see Horace standing there, patiently waiting for a chance to talk to the two professors. Knitting her brows in concern, Hermione approached the dog, and placed two gentle hands to cradle his bloodied muzzle. 

“You’re Pat, aren’t you?’ She asked softly, and he whined in response, gently licking her fingers.

“Yes.” Draco confirmed, locking his mercurial eyes with the dog’s crimson ones.

“How terrible! And you’ve been suffering inside this body all this time?”

He whined in confirmation, but his wagging tail was enough to show the brunette witch how glad he was for finally being able to tell someone what had happened.

When Saturday morning came, a few hours later, the professors and the barghest marched on the Transfiguration Classroom so that Hermione could take a proper look at the situation.

With a flick of her wand, she diagnosed the body of the transformed student and grunted in displeasure at the results.

“It’ll be painful to turn you back into a human.” Hermione warned, and then grimaced. “I don’t know how you turned into a dog, but something happened during the process and your organs and tissues are… twisted for lack of a better term.”

“Is this why he’s always bleeding?” Draco asked and she nodded in response. She straightened her back, pulling out her wand to transform the student back to normal.

The barghest fell to the floor, writhing in pain. His barks and growls soon turned into screams, yelps and cries of a boy in immense pain. Hermione gasped, horrified at the amounts of blood that flooded and stained the stone floor of her classroom.

The Potions professor rushed to the fallen and bloodied student, checking his pulse and his breathing.

“Draco!” The witch cried, desperately looking at the bruised black-haired kid that was now being cradled by the blond wizard’s arms.

“He’s alive.” Draco grunted out, lifting the student and carrying him on his shoulders. “I’ve got him, everything is going to be okay!” He breathed out, unsure if he was reassuring the student, Hermione or himself.

“We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey!”

They were already running down the corridor, getting the attention of the early risers students that were directing themselves to eat breakfast. As soon as the students started to recognize the mat of black hair being carried by the Potions professor, comments started to echo through the halls.

“ _Oh Merlin!_ ”

“ _Is that Pat?_ ”

“ _He had been missing for a year!_ ”

“ _Is he dead?_ ”

“ _He’s bleeding all over the place!_ ”

“Poppy!” Draco snarled, when he burst into the room, setting the bleeding student down at the bed, while Hermione was busy getting all the Blood Replenishing Potions she could. “Help!”

The Hospital Wing was crowded to the brim with curious students and some of the School staff, as well, as they tried to take a peek at the Slytherin student. Madam Pomfrey had to fight her way through the mass of people with a couple of hexes and jinxes to get them away from the ailed boy.

With steady hands and patience, the healer managed to fix the ripped muscles and mend the broken bones that were all over Patrick’s body. Draco and Hermione helped to the best of their abilities, providing her with potions, helping her control the bleeding and scare away the crowd.

Within an hour of hard work and grueling anticipation, Patrick Selwyn was able to open his hazel eyes and peer at the couple of professors and a handful of students, former members of the Literature Club. 

“What happened?” Ben asked the other Slytherin, after he handed the black-haired man a jar of water. 

“I’m not sure.” He confessed in a raspy and tired voice. “I remember I had a fight with my father about my supposed seat at the Wizengamot, and I ran away to the Forbidden Forest because I was pissed off. But I don’t remember anything after that.”

”You had a bout of accidental magic.” Hermione deduced from his explanation. “Sometimes, when a witch or wizard suffers from a great deal of stress for a large amount of time, they can accidentally cast out an immense and chaotic amount of magic.”

“And I accidentally transformed myself into a dog, then?”

“Yes. And since it was unintentional, the magic performed was flawed, which damaged your body quite a bit.”

The words muttered by the battered Slytherin clicked on the members of the club, as it dawned on them the realisation. “You’re Horace!”

“Ah, yeah.” He managed a low chuckle. “It was really hard to get you all to understand I was asking for help. It was nice hearing the discussions and poems though.”

“And you tried to kill me!” Aiden sniffed in mock irritation, that was curbed when the Slytherin explained that he was only trying to drive them away from the Forest.

As the afternoon rolled around, a taut man strode into the Hospital Wing slightly out of breath and with a reddened face. Hermione and Draco recognized Mr. Selwyn and directed the other students to give space to the man.

“My son.” He whispered under his breath, and captured the student’s hands with his.

“Father.” Patrick choked on a sob, not quite being able to meet his father in the eyes.

“You almost gave me a heart attack, you fool!” The man chided. “Where were you? After almost a year missing! Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to explain to the Wizegamont that we were not going to be able to have a seat for you after all?”

“Oh, father.” He fought the urge of rolling his eyes, concentrating instead in the encouraging smiles of his professors that were surreptitiously standing at the corner of the room. “I was frolicking in the woods. Eating rats and rabbits. No, I have no idea how hard it was for you. I had bigger fish to fry.”

“How insolent! As soon as you’re out of this bed we’ll have a lot of work to do, so you do make sure to get better soon.” He snarked, letting go of his hand. “For what is worth, I am glad to see you’re alive and well.”

“You know.” Patrick started, with a pensive smirk. “Technically, I’m already an adult. Considering my birthday was months ago.”

“So it means he doesn’t need to obey every single wish of his father.” Draco chimed in, setting a strong hand on the older pureblood wizard, that was clearly on the verge of exploding in anger.

“How disgraceful.” Mr. Selwyn spat, as he stomped his way out of the Hospital Wing. “See if in the future I’ll help you when you come crawling back to me.”

“’Till then, father!”

“How bold of you.” Maddie smirked, sitting next to the bed, as the other ex-members of the Literature Club settled themselves back to the side of their friend. “To stand up for yourself like that.”

“To quote Horace.” The black haired Slytherin smiled, looking at Hermione’s warm brown eyes. “Seize the day and trust as little as you can in tomorrow.”

“Carpe Diem!” Hermione smiled in turn.

**Author's Note:**

> Consoada - Manuel Bandeira  
> Quando uma Indesejada das gentes chegar  
> (Não sei se dura ou caroável),  
> talvez eu tenha medo.  
> Talvez sorria, ou diga:  
> \- Alô, iniludível!  
> O meu dia foi bom, pode a noite descer.  
> (A noite com os seus sortilégios.)  
> Encontrará lavrado o campo, a casa limpa,  
> A mesa posta,  
> Com cada coisa em seu lugar.


End file.
